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He was barely walking, still lame on the feet, when a stranger picked him up from the streets.
If he remembered correctly, it had been raining pretty bad that day, and he’d been crying so sadly. It was cold and lonely; he didn’t like being left alone - even if humans were scary creatures that liked to yell at him for being dirty, something he really couldn’t help being. He missed his mother and five brothers and sisters (who all thought it was fun to keep him from being fed) even if they liked to bully him and knock him down.
It was raining an awful lot that night, the large drops were making it all the more harder for him to keep up on his lame feet (sizes too big for his tiny build), when all the sudden, the rain stopped above his head. For a minute, he’d thought that something had gone wrong - the sky had finally broken or something - when a warm pair of hands came around his face, rubbing the warmth back into his bones.
Maybe he had died and went to heaven.
When he next woke up, it was on a giant cushiony ground, head rest up against a fuzzy mess that tickled his nose. Something in his mind told him to get up, to get going before some two footed lady decided to yell again, but his body felt lazy; he wanted to sleep some more.
He’d just closed his eyes again when a voice broke through the silence, shocking him straight back to reality. Was it too late to run?
There was panic as he tried to regain his footing, the soft ground making it hard to do so - seemingly eating up his footing every time he managed to get up on fours. The person would yell and perhaps even kick him in the gut - just like that lady at the bus stop had the other night (heels were sharp things that were not meant to be thrown into ribs).
And perhaps given another second, he would have been able to escape, but he then found himself trapped, a large face pressed up against his own.
A human.
He almost cried.
But the human didn’t yell nor kick him as he’d expected. Instead, slim fingers reached over his head, gently rubbing down the place behind his floppy ears, mumbling deep. It was relaxing, soothing the tensed muscles of his body and eventually leaving him a pool of goo, legs twitching purely through his body’s automatic response. Who knew humans could be nice?
And again, he almost cried when the hand came to a stop, pulling away from his ears (finishing up with a light pat on the head). He let out a choked whine, head going for the leaving hand - not that it stopped the human from pulling away.
Later that night, it was decided that he would be henceforth called Jongup.
He was no longer pest, or demon, or any of the other degrading names he’d picked up over the days.
The giant fuzzy couch behind him, as Jongup - the name was still a little funny on the tongue, so very much unlike his own mother’s, a name he couldn’t even remember anymore - later found out, wasn’t really a giant fuzzy couch. He was a Tibetan Mastiff - whatever those were anyways - and his name was Yongguk - another funny name.
The human’s name was Himchan and he was what Yongguk explained as their master.
(Though, the older canine laughed while saying this, making believing so very much harder.)
And through the days, Jongup learned that Himchan was so very much different from the humans he feared. Himchan was nice and warm. He was a little temperamental in the mornings before his coffee (another thing that Yongguk had to clarify for him), which Jongup thought tasted awful and couldn’t understand why exactly his human would drink such a disgusting concoction. But he always cheered up when Jongup sat on his cold feet, placing his head up on his so-called master’s knees.
(Though, Himchan would always blame Jongup for giving him his puppy eyes.)
Himchan liked to pretend he didn’t like Yongguk and Jongup’s company at nights, shoving them off his bed and complaining about their doggy smell - they really couldn’t help that one. But on the nights that the two canines chose to leave their master alone, helpless whimpers would emerge from the bedroom - a place the humans called the master bedroom (funny name) -, irritating Jongup’s ears. (Jongup easily decided that he didn’t like when Himchan was upset.) On those nights, Jongup would crawl into Himchan’s arms while Yongguk jumped up on his hind feet (like the humans) and paw on the room light.
Sometimes, very rarely, their master would bring home other humans to play. On those days, Himchan would string on a leash to Jongup’s collar and hand the other end of the line to Yongguk, sticking the two pups like a funky doggy train. (Himchan said that Jongup needed to learn to calm down in front of guests - Yongguk simply snickered, silently agreeing with the human.)
Once, the second week Jongup had entered his new found life, Himchan’s guest - long hair (curled) and shockingly large eyes (plus giant bundles stuck on her chest) - had scowled at the new puppy, wrinkling up her pretty face. “He’s a mutt. I thought you were better than this, Himchan.”
Jongup wasn’t sure what those words meant, but the look on Himchan’s face said it wasn’t a good thing.
“He’s not a mutt.” Was the simple reply before ushering the human into the kitchen and Jongup into Himchan’s room. They didn’t sit around the couch laughing and playing games that day; and this particular human - with her funky flowery scent that made Jongup sneeze - never made another appearance in their home.
After that day, Himchan had squatted in front of the over excited puppy, holding his head still between two warm hands with a frown. “You’re my dog. Don’t let their words get to you. You’re just as perfect as any purebred dog is and if they call you a mutt, then you’re my purebred mutt.”
And that, was that.
There was that one other time when Himchan and his guest didn’t gather in front of the living room tv to play. This guest had a shortly chopped hair and smelled an awful like vanilla (Jongup might have wanted a taste, but Yongguk pulled him quickly out of it with a sharp tug to the leash).
Vanilla human stopped at the door as soon as he saw Jongup and dropped straight onto his knees, patting them for Jongup to climb into. For a second, both Jongup and Yongguk froze with curious tilts of the head, but in the end, it was decided that Jongup would be allowed to play. (Vanilla man tasted more like sugar than vanilla.) Jongup decided that he liked this guest very much.
That afternoon, Himchan kept licking his lips (Jongup couldn’t understand why they were drying up so much, maybe if his master drank some water or stopped stuttering so much, it wouldn’t be as bad) and waving his arms frantically over his head. Himchan acted really not like himself that night.
(Yongguk explained it was love, but Jongup still didn’t quite get it.)
Vanilla man kept coming back after that. On one afternoon, both Himchan and Jongup’s favorite guest went and locked themselves up in the master bedroom and didn’t come up until the sun and gone way down the horizon. They made weird noises inside (Jongup could swear his master had cried at some point, making him want to break down the door to find out whatever it was hurting his dearest human) and the squeaking of mattresses from the inside made his ears hurt.
(When the two did come out of the room, Jongup tackled himself to Vanilla man’s legs - he tasted like salt that evening - and barked at the weird smell coming from both humans. Vanilla man simply pat his head and said his apologies, promising that he wouldn’t hurt his master - he’d better not.)
Days came and went like so. Life was peaceful and Jongup liked it a whole lot.
Until one day, Yongguk kept getting an awful lot sick.
There was a time when Himchan had to wake up in the middle of the night, screeching and running all over the place, before taking Yongguk off, carrying the oversized canine on his back - with a strength that Jongup didn’t realize his master had.
Jongup slept alone on the cold wooden floor in front of the door that night.
Panics continued like that until one night, Himchan came home without Yongguk limping behind him with his doggy smile, licking their master’s hand. Himchan took one look at a drowsy Jongup on the floor before scooping the now grown pup into his arms with a drawn out whine.
“I-It’s alright,” he’d cried into Jongup’s fur that night, wetting the coat with both snot and tears, “Yongguk’ll be just fine, I promise!”
(It looked more like Himchan needed the reassurance than Jongup.)
And as Himchan promised, Yongguk came back just fine a week after, around his neck a funky cone shaped collar and body lacking the lush dark coat he usually had. If Yongguk didn’t look so bad, Jongup might have even laughed.
When Jongup asked Yongguk what was wrong, why he was wearing a cone instead of the pretty collar he usually did, the older dog simply shrugged. “I’m getting old.” But that wasn’t an answer enough for Jongup.
Because they’d shaved off Yongguk’s fur, the older dog was often shivering in the winter cold. Himchan had at a point made a sort of jacket for the canine, but Yongguk didn’t seem to like it in the least, somehow always managing to tear holes into the warm cloth. So Jongup decided it his job to sleep on top of the shaved older, sharing the what little warmth he could from his own fur.
(Himchan cried when he saw the two dogs huddled together.)
A few months after Yongguk came home practically naked, Himchan took Yongguk out again to the hospital. Jongup waited long hours by the door, not even eating the beef jerky Himchan had left for him in his food tray, until the two were back.
Jongup offered his favorite older friend his beef jerky.
After the worried glances from Himchan began, Yongguk slowly became less active. He sighed an awful lot and remained immobile in the intersection between the living room and kitchen - right at the middle of the house - where he could keep an eye on everything going on in the house without moving.
On Fridays, their movie nights, Himchan would have to help Yongguk up into the living room. Instead of sitting up on the couch, their master took his spot by his older dog, fingers smoothing into the growing fur absent mindedly, leaving Jongup to take his place by the two, head on the human’s lap.
Movies nights remained until the very end.
Sometime between the first time Yongguk was rushed to the vet and the time Jongup first gave up his jerky, Vanilla man made a big mistake.
They’d been having a lazy afternoon, the two dogs, when Yongguk lifted his head, growling toward the door. And before Jongup got a chance to ask what was wrong, their front door slammed open, revealing a crying Himchan and a desperate Vanilla man chasing.
It as a weird scene, something that shocked Jongup. Himchan used to like it so much when Vanilla man came over, wrapping an arm fondly around his waist. He used to gush on about how amazing this person was to Jongup while Yongguk snored a little off to the side.
Unlike Jongup, Yongguk took immediate actions, springing up on aching muscles and advancing toward Vanilla man with a loud drawn out growl and bark.
Jongup very much didn’t like that day.
At night, they ended up all in the living room, Himchan’s head mushed in Yongguk’s fur - nose twitching every once in a while, reminding Jongup of what humans called bunnies. Humans were heavy things, but Yongguk didn’t move a single muscle as he watched their human sleep with almost creepy concentration. They watched Himchan sleep that night.
Don’t let anyone hurt him.
Things got scary when Jongup had to begin poking the older Mastiff awake at nights, just to see if he was still breathing. Instead of getting mad, Yongguk would lazily blink awake, grin awkwardly, then stretch his body just enough so that Jongup would fit himself in.
What was really scary though, was that one time Yongguk didn’t wake up.
It happened while Himchan wasn’t home. Their human was to return back home late that day, and it was just Jongup and Yongguk in the house.
To his freedom, Jongup nosed open the toilet seat and took a good mouthful of water from the porcelain bowl and peed in the dark corner of the master bedroom - it was always more fun doing the things he was told not to. Though usually stopped by a more logical Yongguk, the older had decided on taking a nap by the warmed heater and Jongup had decided himself truly free (the real master of the house).
After a long two hours of running around, he went to wake up his elderly friend, to no response.
“Yongguk? Yongguk?”
He tried everything, stepping on the Mastiff’s paw and even sticking his beef jerky by the older dog’s nose.
Yongguk just wouldn’t wake up.
Jongup cried for a long hour and a half before Himchan returned home, already a loud complaint on his lips scolding Jongup for being loud and disturbing the neighbors.
The lecture died on his lips, however, when he saw what was the problem.
That day, Himchan hurried Yongguk out to the car, like usual; it was just that they didn’t return together, smiling awkwardly with promises to get better and go to the dog beach together.
Some promises, Jongup learned, can’t all be accomplished.
That night, Himchan returned with tears and Yongguk’s collar.
Jongup can’t quite wrap around mind why Himchan had Yongguk’s collar but not Yongguk himself.
After that day Himchan returned without the older canine, the human became strikingly irritable. He screamed a lot and had at a point taken to kicking Jongup out of the way. There was even a time when Himchan had forgotten to fill Jongup’s bowl with kibbles, leading to a hungry puppy and a destroyed kitchen.
It got so bad, that it was eventually decided that Jongup be sent away.
When Himchan loaded him into the car that day, Jongup had only just been excited. His eyes were bright and he had to beg Himchan to open the passenger seat window so he could stick his head out and catch the wind. It was so very exciting. Maybe they’d go to the park or the beach.
But when the door was pulled open, Jongup realized it wasn’t the park or the beaches. It was another boring apartment complex and it confused Jongup so very much. Were they moving?
Himchan led him into the elevator and down the quiet hall until they reached a door. He rang the bell and stepped back, a frown pulling at his lips.
Jongup watched him carefully the whole time, a queer pang pulling at his chest. Something didn’t feel right.
He tried licking and nosing against Himchan’s hand, mutely telling him his apologies. He’d do better, he promised. He might have been a little dumb and childish, but Jongup always meant the best.
When the door pulled open, Jongup found Vanilla, wide eyed and confused.
Himchan shoved Jongup and his collar to Vanilla and left.
“He likes you the best.”
It was a confusing three months, to say at the least when Jongup stayed with Vanilla.
Vanilla smiled an awful lot, talking to Jongup, but the pup wasn’t interested. He cried at nights, scratching the front door with drawn out howls. He wanted Himchan. Master Himchan didn’t like sleeping alone at nights. Without Jongup, Himchan would surely cry at nights. Jongup needed to be there to protect master Himchan from the dark.
Jongup only gave up after the first month.
Still, the pup stayed by the front door the majority of the day, ears twitching in excitement whenever footsteps were heard outside. He’d stopped barking after the first month, but the painful whine when the footsteps faded out to nothing still broke away at all hearts.
Vanilla tried to make Jongup feel better. He’d sit by Jongup’s side on nights, patting the exhausted pup’s head with a sigh of his own. “Himchan’ll be back, I promise. He wouldn’t leave you alone like this.”
Jongup hoped Vanilla was right.
Unlike his old home, Vanilla’s home was big. It had so many different rooms and interesting things to smell and see. In one of the rooms was even a tiny dog with large teeth; it constantly sat in its barred cage (on a queer shaped wheel) and squeaked angrily whenever Jongup came too close. Apparently, it wasn’t very friendly, not like how Yongguk had been.
(Jongup missed Yongguk.)
It wasn’t that Vanilla treated him badly. Two times a day, once in the morning and once at night, he would feed Jongup with the top brand dog food - a mix between the can and kibbles - and treats and compliments were a regular happening. Walks were stretched to an hour a day, stopping whenever Jongup did to pee and mark his territory.
But it still wasn’t home.
Jongup missed the grouchy Himchan in the mornings. He missed sitting on Himchan’s cold feet, warming his master’s mornings up. He missed drinking from the bowl and getting in trouble. He missed his cheap beef jerky treat that he’d have to actually work for to snatch out of a teasing Himchan’s hand.
He missed Himchan.
It took three long months before anything really happened.
Even then, Jongup sat by the front door, sighing and weakly whimpering. The excited thumps of his tail going off had stopped in the second month, leaving a nearly dead shell of what used to be the over excited dog. But nothing stopped him from guarding his spot by the door.
Even if Himchan wasn’t really going to come, Jongup liked the pretend that one day he would.
Three months and three days since his first day in Vanilla’s house, Jongup got to meet Himchan.
Vanilla had Himchan by the wrist, stomping into the apartment, yelling at his master. (Jongup barked angrily at Vanilla - Yongguk had entrusted him to protect their human.)
There was a lot of one sided yelling and pointing at Jongup before Vanilla stopped, heaving deep breaths and glaring angrily.
Another minute had Himchan falling on the ground, tears in his eyes.
(Jongup bit Vanilla’s hand angrily before going to his master, licking the salty tears away.)
Don’t cry master, don’t cry.
I’ll be good from now on, don’t cry.
I’ll stop drinking from the toilet. I won’t eat your shoes or shirts.
You taught me your homework isn’t my snack.
And peeing on your bed equals no snacktime.
I won’t ask for walks in the middle of the night anymore.
I won’t bark at the delivery man.
So please stop crying.
I promise to be good.
So can we please go home again?
I promise I’ll get better. I promise I’ll be good.
Please stop crying.
Don’t be sad.